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LITTLE RIPPLES 
OF SONG 



BY 



CELIA DOERNER 




BOSTON 

THE GORHAM PRESS 

1914 



Copyright 19 H, by Celia Doerner 
All rights reserved 






The Gorham Press, Boston, U. S. A, 

DEC 24 1914 

©CI,A388936 



FOREWORD 

Of the many poems pemied by me during the 
scant leisure hours of a busy life I have gathered 
a few for this volume, in the hope that they may 
not only interest my friends, but that some of 
them may find favor in the eyes of a wider reading 
circle and be deemed worthy of preservation for 
their own sake. 

About one-half of the poems included in this 
collection have never before been printed, the 
others have appeared in various newspapers and 
magazines. 

Trusting that these "Little Ripples of Song" 
may produce a ripple of criticism and comment 
not altogether adverse, I send them forth on the 
alluring but uncertain sea of literary venture. 

Celia Doerner. 

Grants Pass, Oregon, 
August, 1914. 



To 
My Beloved Sister 
whoy since disease has held me in its graspy has 
sacrificed so much of her pleasure and comfort for 
mine and who is always interested in the products of 
my pen, this little volume is gratefully dedicated. 



CONTENTS 



GLIMPSES OF SOUL LIFE 



My Safety-Valve 11 

My World 12 

Lost and Found 13 

Licht, Liebe, Leben 15 

Truth.... 16 

In the Wiertz Gallery at Brussels 17 

In the Catacombs of Paris 18 

Poverty and Riches 20 

Into the Light 21 

Beauty Revealed 22 

God Geometrizes 23 

Extremes 25 

A Poem to Order 26 

An Awakening 27 

To a Jewish Child 28 

Blind Leaders 29 

The Search for Heaven 30 

The Mothers' Voices 31 

Two Prayers 33 

GLIMPSES OF NATURE 

Water and Sky 37 

The Wedding of Hill and Valley 39 

Caught 40 

From Seashore to Mountain Land 41 

Weather Samples 42 

The Starfish 43 

The Harebell 44 

The Origin of the Pansy 45 

The Dandelion 46 

The Queen of the Flowers 48 

A Rhyme of the Rose 50 

Her Gift 51 



OCCASIONAL AND MISCELLANEOUS 

The New Year 55 

A Christmas Pudding 56 

A Christmas Greeting 57 

Strange 58 

The Magic Cure 60 

Egypt 61 

To the New Baby 62 

The Coming of the Kmg 63 

Jean Frances 64 

To EHzabeth 65 

One Year Old 66 

To My Niece 67 

Our Sunbeam 68 

The First Score 69 

The Mathematician in Love 70 

The Wedding of Two Astronomers 71 

To Miranda 72 

Lines for a China Wedding 73 

Lines for a Golden Wedding 74 

A Greeting from the South 75 

To Marian, on Receiving her Photograph. . . 76 

To Dr. W. H. Venable 77 

A Father's Farewell to his Son 78 

Poem for Founder's Day, Woodward High 

School 79 



GLIMPSES OF SOUL LIFE 



MY SAFETY-VALVE 

When Spring decks the earth with verdure bright, 
When Summer bathes it in floods of hght, 
When Winter wraps it in garments of white, 
I sing a song. 

When in faraway foreign lands I roam, 
When I seek Nature's haunts or classic dome, 
When I sit in the quiet seclusion of home, 
I sing a song. 

When my soul is happy and joyous and strong, 
When sorrows and cares come in maddening 

throng. 
When things go right and when things go wrong, 
I sing a song. 

There be some who enjoy my songs, I hear; 
But were I to catch not a single ear. 
For my own content and comfort and cheer 
I would sing a song. 



11 



MY WORLD 

My world is very small, — 
Hemmed in by the narrow walls of my room,. 
Where I sit all day and have but the view 
Of a garden-bed with roses in bloom, 
A section of street with a house or two, 
A moimtain-peak with a bit of the blue 
Overhead, save when clouds intercept the view. 

And yet my world is large. 
For now and then some kind friend calls 
And brings a bit of his world to me; 
He takes me out from my prison walls 
And through his practised eyes I see; 
And journals and books, too, set me free. 
And I roam far and wide at liberty. 

My world is very large; 
My thoughts travel far over seas and lands. 
To tropic jungle and arctic zone, 
To crowded cities and desert sands; 
And far beyond to the sim's high throne, 
To distant star-worlds they have flown. 
And world within world they have made their own. 



n 



LOST AND FOUND 

*Tis years since I left my childhood home 
On the bank of Ohio's beautiful stream, 

And now in a distant land I roam, 
And life seems only a fitful dream. 

For foreign the landscape on which I gaze, 
And the scenes about me are strange and new; 

And strange are the faces, the manners and ways, 
And the voices, alas! are different, too. 

And turn where I will, I cannot find 

A link to connect with the life of the past ; 

My heart is heavy, my eyes are blind 

With the teardrops gathering thick and fast. 

But I step outside as the night descends 
And I look aloft at the deep blue sky. 

Where the crescent moon in the west low bends. 
And the gleaming stars pass slowly by. 

The Great Dipper's handle westward swings. 
And Arcturus follows with radiant light. 

While Virgo near by with outspread wings 

Southwest through the heavens pursues her 
flight. 

And see! in the southern sky there burns 

The Star of the Scorpion fiery red. 
There Sagittarius his arrow turns. 

And the Eagle of Jove soars overhead. 

The beautiful cross of the Swan shines on high. 
And Vega, that marks the Orphean Lyre; 

The Milky Way spans the dome of the sky, 
And Pegasus slowly climbs up higher. 

13 



And I feast my eyes on each well-known star 
That shines as an old-time friend in the sky- 
Though my weary feet have traveled far, 
I still am at home when I gaze on high. 



14 



\ 



LIGHT, LIEBE, LEBEN 

(Inscription on Herder's tomb at Weimar.) 

These words inscribed upon a poet's tomb 
To thoughts and feehngs manifold give rise, 

And larger, as I ponder them, they loom. 
Grand trinity of words none other vies. 

Light! radiant Light! that glorifies the earth. 
Dispelling darkness, ignorance and crime; 

From lowliest station leading mankind forth 
High and yet higher mountain-tops to climb. 

Love ! tender Love ! that light 'nest every task. 
That smilest but at pain and toil and death. 

That, freely giving ere one dare to ask, 

Bestowest blessings with thy every breath. 

And Life! Life all-embracing, rich and strong. 
Ready to do and dare, if need be fight, 

Yet bubbling over into joyous song. 

While striving steadfast for the truth and right. 

Life, all aglow with Love, agleam with Light! 

When these are wedded, then behold is born 
The seer, prophet, poet! Flees the night, 

And mankind wakens to a brighter morn. 



15 



TRUTH 

Those ancient Greeks, true lovers they of Art! 
Their work was finished, perfect in each part; 
That which was hidden 'gainst the temple wall 
As nicely wrought as that in view of all. 
If none else were aware, the sculptor knew 
Whether his handiwork was honest, true; 
And still to-day we marvel as we gaze 
On treasured fragments of those early days. 

Not so the sculptors of a later age! 

Take down your Ruskin; find the forceful page. 

With wrath and indignation all afire 

At thought of artist working but for hire. 

On a high tomb in a Venetian church 

A marble image showed on careful search 

Unfinished parts where hidden from the eye. 

And Ruskin viewed with scorn the sculptiu*ed 

lie:— 
"I swear that he who wrought it was a knave!" — 
And lo! he traced him to a felon's grave. 



16 



IN THE WIERTZ GALLERY AT 
BRUSSELS* 

Amid the children of his brain and hand, 
Here in this wondrous gallery I stand, 
And bend in awe and reverence to the soul 
That gave itself to Art, complete and whole. 

"Let other artists paint for fame and gold 

And chisel statues to be bought and sold! 

Let poets sing for royal meed and praise ! 

To Art alone I consecrate my days. 

I paint the images that throng my brain 

And fit expression through my brush would gain; 

My dreams and fancies for a form contend, 

And, through success or failiu*e, I ascend. 

Go keep your gold! I will not sell my soul! 

Art is my soul, my life; I'll keep it whole 

And pure and true and free; and if I must, 

I'll starve before I'll trail it in the dust!" 

And so he starved and froze. Yet still he wrought, 
Painting the beauty that his soul had caught. — 
Suppose he erred; suppose his art had gained. 
Had not his life been crippled and constrained. 
What matter.^ Pure his purpose, high his aim; 
A kingly soul ! All honor to his name ! 



*Anton Wiertz was a great artist who, though poverty- 
stricken, refused to sell his paintings, as he thoughtlthis 
would be debasing his art. Finally his native city of Brus- 
sels ofiFered to support him and to build him a gallery in 
which to display his paintings, on condition that he would 
bequeath them all to the city. 

17 



IN THE CATACOMBS OF PARIS 

Whence came that voice? — Amazed I looked 

around; 
The long procession one by one had passed, 
Each with his lighted taper gone before 
Through narrow corridors close walled with bones. 
Long bones and skulls, symmetrically ranged 
In ghastly ranks, piled high on either side, 
And stretching mile on mile without a break. 
Again that sound! If bones could speak, I'd 

say 
'Twas yonder skull that gruesome glares at me; 
And, by my troth, it is the skull that calls. 

" O mortal, tarry but to hear the tale. 

Which on this day alone of all the year. 

The Blessed Mary's Feast Day, I may tell. 

Then doomed to silence through the weary days. 

While yet I breathed the sunlit air above, 

I had a quarrel with my fellow-man; 

He would not yield, nor I; and day by day 

Keener, more bitter waxed the strife; our hearts 

Were filled with hatred fierce, implacable, 

Absorbing all our thought and all our life, 

And shutting out God's sunshine from our world. 

Now here I lie, so much as still remains. 
And nestling close beside, bone crossing bone. 
Skull grazing skull, my foe is laid to rest. 
And now, too late, I think what fools we were. 
What wicked fools, to darken earth's brief day 
With clouds of our own making, and to hide 
The blessed sun of love, God's greatest gift." 



18 



Then sudden ceased the voice; and when again 
I looked, the rows of skulls seemed all alike; 
My candle flickered ominously low, 
And on I ran to join the moving throng. 



19 



POVERTY AND RICHES 

On world-wide tours he saw in many lands 

The splendid structures reared by human hands 

And marvels manifold by Nature wrought; 

And yet he said, "In all the world there's naught 

For which it were worth while 

To journey e'en a mile." 

She never left her humble village home 
Save in the neighboring wood and field to roam; 
But tree and flower and bird and brook and sky, 
A song, book, picture — raised her spirits high, 

And filled her soul with praise 

For wonder-teeming days. 



m 



INTO THE LIGHT 

A load of sorrow rested on my soul; 
My limbs refused their service, and my brain; 
As one stunned, stupefied, entranced, I sat 
Within the solemn stillness of my room, 
Unwarmed as yet save by the sunny beams 
That through the window flecked the floor with 
gold. 

The crisp October air soon chilled me through, 
And yet I sat immoved, with head bowed down. 
How long, I know not. But at last my eye 
Began to note the outer world, and first 
The narrow streak of sunshine on the floor. 

Full in the light, rejoicing in the warmth 
That thrilled its sluggish being, sat a fly, 
Brushing its shining wings, bobbing its head, 
Then drinking in, it seemed, the sunny tide. 

I raised my hand until its shadow broad 

Fell full upon the fly, which instant left 

The darkened spot for the bright patch beyond; 

And when thence too I snatched the sunshine, 

swift 
The fly moved farther on in search of light. 

Then presently my sense of woe returned, 
Beguiled a moment by a little fly; 
But Woe and I changed places, for behold! 
I mastered now what erst had mastered me. 
And straightway shaking from my torpid soul 
The lethargy that had imprisoned it, 
I rose to action, wrought with head and hand 
Untiringly, as I had never wrought. — 
And lo ! once more I found my way to light. 

SI 



BEAUTY REVEALED 

Along the dreary road I wander 

Where bare trees rise 

Against the wintry skies, 
And on bleak hills and house-tops yonder 

The snow still hes. 

But see! a kind friend hastens to me 

And greets my ear 

With tidings full of cheer, 
That send a thrill of gladness through me 

And banish fear. 

Along the road now homeward wending, 

My happy eyes 

See hills in glory rise. 
And o'er the graceful tree-tops bending, 

Blue, sunny skies. 



St2 



GOD GEOMETRIZES 

(A Reply to ''June'' by S. W. Foss) 

True it is God poetizes in the lovely month of 

June, 
Beauty everywhere o'erflowing, all the world in 

perfect tune. 

Poetry in ferns and mosses, in the fragrance of 

the flowers; 
" In the rhythm of the rosebanks, in the meter of 

the showers." 

In the ripple of the brooklet, in the warble of the 

birds; 
In the stars which dance together to a music 

without words. 

Yet, my friend, old Plato erred not when he sent 

the dictum forth: 
"God geometrizes." — Order is the law of heaven 

and earth. 

Order banished, all is chaos, void of form and 

beauty-bare; 
Mathematics barred, — no cosmos, nothing true 

or good or fair. 

Think you truly "lines and angles" have no part 

in Nature's scheme? 
See them where the rounded leaflets with their 

serrate margins gleam. 

Watch the honey-bee as true it fashioneth each 

tiny cell; 
Mark the rigid forms of crystals in the native rock 

that dwell. 

23 



See'the^rainbow-arch in heaven,|^mark that stone's 

descending curve; 
True to laws of mathematics, not a hair's breadth 

do they swerve. 

And the planets in their orbits strictest laws must 

needs obey; 
Could this world else hold together, think you, 

for a single day? 

Even painting, sculpture, music, — ^trace them to 

the very start; 
What find you but mathematics at the root of 

every art? 

Yes, my friend, God poetizes; — but he could not 

poetize. 
If forever and forever he did not geometrize. 



U 



EXTREMES 

In darkness, as in dazzling light, 

All objects disappear; 
We cannot read the printed page 

If held too far, too near. 

On burning sun, on frozen sun, 

All life gives way to death; 
In atmosphere too dense, too rare. 

We cannot draw a breath. 

Beyond the color spectrmn beat 

The waves too fast, too slow; 
Ear cannot catch tones pitched too high. 

Nor others pitched too low. 

In education, politics. 

Reforms of every kind. 
In diet, dances, modes of dress. 

Work, play — still bear in mind 

The truth by ancient sages taught, 

On which we yet may lean : — 
That virtue lies not in extremes, 

But in the golden mean. 



^ 



A POEM TO ORDER 

A poem to order? I'll do my best. 

But to mood and to chance I must leave the rest. 

The birth of a poem one cannot control; 

It springs from the inmost heart and soul. 

It sprouts like the grass, imfolds like a flower, 

And the poet knows not the day or the hour. 

He catches the tune from the brooks and the birds. 

And the breezes whisper strange new words. 

And the sea speaks to him in accents wild. 

And he hearkens to all, Nature's grown-up child. 

Then translates what he hears for you and for me. 

And we soar on the wings of his melody. 



26 



AN AWAKENING 

Once life was full of highest yearning, 
Each golden day a god-sent gift 
To crown with earnest deeds and lift 
The eager soul, great lessons learning 
Through lowly tasks each day returning. 

Then from a joyous heart there rose 
Glad songs of wonderment and praise 
For blessed boon of happy days, 

For flowers that spring, for grass that grows, 

For beauty everywhere that blows. 

Those happy days, alas! are fled; 

Shorn of my strength, with broken health 
My hands hang idle, and the wealth 

Of beauty on closed eyes is shed; 

No songs spring up; my soul is dead. 

Thus long in silent grief I dwelt. 

Save when mayhap I cursed the hour 
Which gave me birth, or prayed some power 
Would end the woes too keenly felt. 
Though in deliv'rance death were dealt. 

But lo! a voice was heard one day: — 
Though toil thou canst not, thou canst sing; 
So let thy joyous notes still ring; 

Smile through the heart-break; sound thy lay! — 

And halting, trembling, I obey. 



27 



TO A JEWISH CHILD 

In the dark depths of those great, soulful eyes, 

My little Hebrew lad, I fain would read 

The marvelous history of thy marvelous race: — 

The patience meekly suffering cruel wrongs. 

The courage shrinking not from torturous death. 

The constancy that wavers not or turns, 

The faith and trust, of deep devotion born. 

The hope that triumphs over every woe. 

The love of kindred, reverence for age. 

The virtues manifold that mark thy race. 

Truly, God's chosen people these must be. 

Else long since had they perished from the earth. 

When blushing I recall the insults foul 

That we have heaped on them in Christ's dear 

name. 
And think how meekly they that own not Christ 
Have suffered all, and steadfast held their way 
Through sorrow, persecution, torture, death, — 
I can conceive, my little Hebrew lad. 
What pride a Jew must feel to be a Jew! 



^ 



BLIND LEADERS 

(A Tribute to Helen Keller.) 

Can one, shut off since early infancy 
From all the glorious world of sight and sound, 
In darkness plunged and silence without break, 
Teach us, who have our every sense intact, 
Better to hear and see, as well as feel? 

As in a temple with three ample doors, 
If two be barred, the throng wdll seek the third. 
Winding its way into the holy place — 
So in the temple of her marvelous mind 
Though two wide portals are forever blocked. 
No messenger that seeks to enter there 
And bring his tribute from the outer world 
But somehow finds his way to inmost shrine 
And leaves his off'ring, shortly to be wrought 
With countless others to bright gems of thought 
Or fiery bolts to rouse the sleeping world 
And haste the dawn of justice, plenty, peace, 
Goodwill and happiness for all mankind. 



29 



THE SEARCH FOR HEAVEN 

They tell me of a glorious heaven to be, 

The blind man said. 
Ah! if this wondrous world I could but see, 

'Twere heaven for me. 

'Tis sad to be shut out from every sound, 

The deaf man said. 
Could I but hear the voices all around, 

My heaven were found. 

Beyond the skies they paint a future heaven. 

The cripple said; 
But if sound limbs again to me were given, 

I'd be in heaven. 

So with us all! That which we most desire 

Is heaven for us. 
The poor man thinks, Had I but wealth, ho 
higher 

Would I aspire. 

The lover vows that he wants nothing more 

Than one sweet maid; 
The scholar asks but leisure to explore 

All hidden lore. 

Since heaven is but our dearest wish and dream, 

'Tis never here; 
Always beyond, where dwelleth joy supreme. 

We see it gleam. 



30 



THE MOTHERS' VOICES 

As I sat musing one bright summer morn, 
Holding upon my lap my little son, 

Voices of mothers on the breezes borne 
Unto my ear were wafted one by one. 

Soft sang the first, "My boy, may wealth untold 
Be yours to turn to mighty enterprise ! 

Still as of old 'tis through the gleam of gold 
That here on earth the path to glory lies. " 

Another voice was heard, "My precious boy. 
The scholar's tranquil life may you embrace, 

In treasured wisdom find supremest joy. 
Adding your tribute to enrich the race. " 

The third voice sang, " Beloved son, I pray 
That you may be a leader among men. 

An orator with eloquence to sway 

The multitude beyond the power of pen. " 

And still the voices came : — " My son, be yours 
The farmer's calling close to Nature's haunts, 

Far from the dinful city's snares and lures. 

Straight from the soil supplying all your wants." 

"A great inventor. Darling, may you be. 
Bestowing gifts of magic on mankind; 

What was unheard, unseen — to hear and see. 
For Nature's mysteries the keys to find." 

"May you, sweet babe, become an artist great, 
Seeing the hidden beauty everywhere; 

For duller senses striving to translate 
Life-like to glowing canvas visions fair. " 

31 



"A wise physician I would have you be. 

My own dear lad, to help and save and bless; 

Hiunanity from direful ills to free, 
That block the path to earthly happiness. " 

"A poet I would wish my child to be, 
A seer, who, with vision keen and strong. 

Winging his flight aloft in ecstasy. 

Pours forth his message in soul-stirring song.*' 

At last the voices ceased. Then, bending low 
Over the tiny form now simk in sleep, 

I prayed, "My darling child, God grant you grow 
To noble, worthy manhood, that you keep 

Your soul and body clean; be honest, true. 

Faithful and kind; brave, strong and reverent; 

And then, my son, whatever you choose to do 
With hand or brain, your life will be well- 
spent. " 



32 



TWO PRAYERS 

I prayed for Life ! 
For Death came very nigh, and I was young, 
And Life seemed oh, so rich and fair and sweet. 
And with each fiber of my soul I climg 
To that retreating precious boon, replete 
With promise; for I longed to dare and do. 
To test my powers in fields untried and new. 

And now I pray for Death! 
For I am growing old. All that was sweet 
Li Life and fair, with youth has passed away; 
Health has forsaken me, and strength to meet 
The difficulties that beset each day; 
My hands have lost their power; I fain would rest. 
Then welcome. Death! thrice welcome to my 

breast! 



33 



GLIMPSES OF NATURE 



WATER AND SKY 

The Sky looked down on the Water 
And the Water looked up at the Sky, 

Clad in heavenly hue 

Of the loveliest blue. 
Said the Water: *' There's naught that can vie 
With the marvelous beauty on high; 

I can only gaze, 

Admire and praise, 
In the lake's quiet lap as I lie." 

Then the Night sank down on the Water, 
And darkened the face of the Sky, 

Till brightly anon 

The golden Stars shone, 
And as if with their splendor to vie. 
The Moon raised her crescent on high. 

And the Water still gazed. 

Admired and praised. 
E'en thankful that there it might lie. 

While the Water looked longingly skyward, 
I gazed at its calm depths below. 

And there broke on my view 

The heavens' own blue. 
With the sunset just lending its glow. 
Then the Stars and the Moon came, and oh!- 

Could it be a mistake? — 

Down there in the lake 
The same golden lights 'gan to grow. 

And then methought: As the Water 

In its own fair features doth show 
All the charms that it views. 
All the gifts it would choose, 



87 



So may not our frail natures grow 
^ Like unto the great souls we know, 

If we deeply desire, 

If we truly admire, 
Nor begrudge them the homage we owe? 

And if, like the heavens above us. 
Our bounties we freely bestow. 

If we hide not our Ught, 

But let it shine bright. 
From our souls the sunshine will flow 
On other souls struggling below 

In the darkness and cold; 

Till in them we behold 
Reflected the image we throw. 



38 



THE WEDDING OF HILL AND VALLEY 

"Valley, will you marry me?" 

Said the Hill. 
First the Valley said, *'I'll see!" 
Then she said, *'I will!" 

So, one lovely April day, 

Years gone by. 
There was held a wedding gay 
'Neath the smiling sky. 

Ever since, the two are found 

Side by side; 
When you see the Hill, look round. 
You will see his bride. 



39 



CAUGHT 

Broad at my feet the river lies. 
The moon has risen in the skies, 

A golden pathway tracing, 
That spans the stream from shore to shore 
And sparkles, glistens o'er and o'er. 

The moonlight all embracing. 

See how the mullet jump and prance 
And madly whirl in merry dance 

Within the waters' gleaming. 
A weird it is and wondrous sight. 
The waves shot through with golden light 

And with the fishes teeming. 

^ I step into my little boat. 
And on the waters soon afloat. 

With broad oars lightly dipping, 
I straightway seek the path of gold. 
And then its shining course I hold 

'Mid mullet sporting, skipping. 

As thus o'er golden waves I gUde, 
The fish still dancing at my side, 

I hear a sudden plashing; 
And lo ! e'en at my feet there lies 
A glittering, gHstening, struggling prize. 

Within the moonlight flashing. 

Poor little fish! Like us you sought 
The gHttering gold, and now are caught 

YourseK the shining treasure. 
Too light of heart, you jumped too high, 
Till low you fell where now you lie. — 

Thus endeth many a pleasure. 



40 



FROM SEASHORE TO MOUNTAIN LAND 

From seagirt Florida to inland plain, 

Where lofty mountains lift their snowy heads; 
From southern clime where green the trees remain 

The year around, and in the garden-beds 
Roses in winter bloom, while songsters sweet 

From the thick foliage pour rich melodies; — 
Great is the change to Colorado sleet 

And snow, and icy blasts, and naked trees. 

And I, who lately left that southern shore. 

Long for the wealth of verdure, the soft air 
That from the orange-bloom sweet perfume bore. 

With pure salt breath of ocean; for the fair 
Blue skies that smiled on beauty lavished wide 

On sea and shore, and nightly all aglow 
With gleaming stars, and moon whose silver tide 

Lent magic charm to all the scene below. 

Yet here, too, in this western mountain land. 

When winter storms are o'er, the sun shines 
bright, — 
The same life-giving orb that floods the sand 

Of Florida's fine beach with golden light. 
Here, too, the vaulted heavens at night-time glow 

With moon and stars, in dazzling bright array, 
And from the wide, sunflowered prairie blow 

Breezes as fresh as those from ocean spray. 

And when I look upon the mountain-heights. 

Against the sky's blue background clearly set, 
And glowing in the sunset's gorgeous lights 

Of gold and amber, rose and violet; — 
I know that Beauty hath no chosen home. 

But in God's world aboundeth everywhere, 
On shore, on moimtain; that where'er we roam. 

If we but search, we find the good and fair. 

41 



WEATHER SAMPLES 

A gray day dawned, all veiled in mist, 
And then it rained, a steady pour. 

Till lo! the sun broke forth and kissed 
The ground that had been soaked before. 

The parting clouds revealed the blue, 
And bright and warm the sunshine lay, 

When suddenly soft flakes of snow 

Fell where the sunbeams were at play. 

The orb of day now hid his face. 
Leaving the flakes to play alone; 

But 'twas not long; — vanished the snow. 
Once more the sun his brightest shone. 

My heart beat joyful at the sight. 

And thus I thought would end the day; 

When, even as I gazed, there formed 
A mist that soon to rain gave way. 

But when night fell, the stars came out, 
And then the moon rose big and bright, 

And when there dawned another day. 

The ground with hoarfrost glistened white. 

Thus Oregonians have no need 

To seek for change in foreign climes. 

When in one day they find condensed 
The weather of all lands and times. 



4^ 



THE STARFISH 

When first within the azure sky 

The Httle stars were set, 
Each tried its best to cHmb on high. 

The loftiest seat to get. 

And jostling one another so. 

One little star lost hold; 
It fell down through the air, and lo! 

Into the sea it rolled. 

And there, its nature changed, we find 

The star this very day. 
With many millions of its kind; — 

Starfishes, now we say. 



43 



THE HAREBELL 

Beneath an overhanging cliff, 

One quiet summer day, 
I floated in my little skiff, 
Where shadows lay. 

And looking up, there met my eye 

A blossom dainty and fair. 
In shape a bell, blue as the sky, 
Waving in air. 

"Sweet Flower," I said, "why dost thou 

spring 
Upon the rock so bare. 
Where not another living thing 

The place will share .f^" 

Then up and rang the bonny bell, 

And said in melody, 
"If none else on the rock will dwell. 
Can it spare me?" 



44 



THE ORIGIN OF THE PANSY 

Ah, now I know, dear little Yellow-face, 
That in thy purple setting shinest so. 
Why in thy smiling features we can trace 
A butterfly held fast in thy embrace. — 
Ah, now I know! 

I tell you true: — One day a butterfly 
Was flitting gayly where the violets grew, 
When presently its splendor caught the eye 
Of one, a merry lad, just passing by; — 
I tell you true. 

Ah, cruel fate! To suffer ling'ring woes 
By childish hands all uncompassionate ! 
Oh, that some friendly power would interpose 
To save the joyous life while yet it glows! — 
Ah, cruel fate ! 

Fear turns to joy! The trembling butterfly 
Is well-nigh captured by the thoughtless boy, 
When sudden it eludes his searching eye. 
And in its place a Pansy he doth spy. — 
Fear turns to joy! 



45 



THE DANDELION 

On a bright midsummer day 
Stood a Dandelion gay 

On the sunny meadow, 
Wearing high a little crown, 
Like a ball of snowy down. 

On the meadow. 

Comes the Wind in roughest mood 
Gives the flower a shaking rude. 

Cries, "You shall not stay there! 
And that crown you shall not wear, 
I will chase it through the air; 

Haste away there!" 

So with all his might he blew 
Where the Dandelion grew, 

Tore her crown asunder; 
Scattered it on every side. 
Through the meadow far and wide. 

Roared like thimder: — 

"Saucy Flower, now you'll know 
That you must not dare to grow 

Here upon this meadow! 
I hate flowers, and least of all 
Will I have your feather-ball 

On my meadow!" 

So, before the Simimer fled. 
Dandelion hung her head, 

Stripped of all her splendor. 
Wind then blew a joyous blast : — 
"Ha! I'm rid of her at last; 

This wiU end her ! 



46 



But the seasons quickly sped; 
Autumn, Winter, both were dead; 

Earth with life was teeming. 
Then once more amid the green 
Golden flower-heads were seen 

Glowing, gleaming. 

Dandelions here and there, 
Dandelions everywhere. 

Golden-bright and showy; 
And ere many days they wore 
Each a crown, just as before. 

Light and snowy. 



47 



THE QUEEN OF THE FLOWERS 

Long ago, the story goes, 

All the flowers assembled, chose 

As their Queen the lovely Rose. 

That was in the days of yore 
Of the wildwood Rose that bore 
Five pink petals, and no more. 

Yet its simple sweetness caught 
All the other flowers and brought 
Praise and homage, all unsought. 

Now, behold each stamen wrought 

To a dainty petal, fraught 

With a heavenly perfume, caught 

From the breath of field and wood. 
All that's sweet and pure and good, 
Distilled in Nature's happiest mood. 

And today we scarce would know 

The simple Rose of long ago 

Li the blossoms choice that grow 

Everywhere for our delight: — 
Crimson Rambler color-bright, 
Lovely Bride in snowy white. 

Shining red Jacqueminot, 

Orange-tinted Safrano, 

Sweet LaFrance with satin glow, 



48 



Marechal Niel of golden hue, 
Great pink Caroline Testout, 
And the others, old and new. 

In the gardens everywhere, 

Making them a vision fair 

And sweetly scenting all the air. 

So the queenly Rose to-day 
Still in every heart holds sway. 
And her reign will last for aye. 



49 



A KHYME OF THE ROSE 

What is lovelier than a Rose? — 
Mark the stem that shoots and grows, 
Then the leaflets that unclose, 
Next the bud that swells and glows, 
Till the rich ripe blossom blows, 
From whose cup sweet perfume flows. 

In the bosom of the Rose 

Beauties manifold repose; 

Hues outrivaling even those 

Shining in the brilliant bows 

Which the sun through raindrops throws. 

Many sing in verse and prose 
The praises of the matchless Rose, 
And this rhyme I now compose 
Its birth unto her sweetness owes. 



50 



HER GIFT 

A bit of the woodland she brought to me 

That soft October day, — 
The crimson and gold of the maple tree 

Brave in its autumn array. 

And I, who cannot sally forth 

To feast my hungry eyes 
On the miracles of the changing earth, 

Looked up in glad surprise. 

For the shining leaves with the autumn glow 
Brought back the woods to me. 

Where I strolled in the days so long ago, 
When I was happy and free. 



51 



OCCASIONAL AND MISCELLANEOUS 



THE NEW YEAR 

If the old year has been happy, 

Filled with deeds that serve and bless, 
With tasks well done, soul-battles won, 
Joy-hghted by success, — 
Then never fear. 
The bright New Year 
Will bring you happiness. 

If the old year was not happy, 

Nor filled with deeds that bless. 
If tasks were slighted, hopes were blighted 
Through your own thoughtlessness, — 
Ah, then, I fear 
E'en this New Year 
Will not spell happiness. 

But, whether sad or joyful, 

Put old-year thoughts away. 
Now face about, hearts brave and stout, 
Your part in life to play. 
And never fear, 
A glad New Year 
Begins this New Year's Day. 



55 



A CHRISTMAS PUDDING 

Take a cake of ice and a handful of snow 
And stir them well with a poimd of love; 

Then a bagful of candy and nuts bestow, 
And mix in another pound of love. 

Hide a doll, a drum and a ball in the dough. 
And with them another poimd of love; 

Then flavor with orange, a cupful or so. 
Stirred in with another pound of love. 

Now put in the oven and bake it slow, 
But be sure to add a little more love; 

Then dress it with holly and mistletoe. 
And dish it up with the rest of the love. 



56 



A CHRISTMAS GREETING 

As at this blessed Christmas-tide I sit 

And gaze at wealth of green 'neath southern 
skies. 
Bright scenes of childhood days arise and flit 

With added charm before my wistful eyes. 

The Christmas tree in dazzling bright array 
Of candles, shining balls, and snowy chains. 

With dolls and gilded nuts and apples gay, 
And toys arranged beneath with loving pains. 

And our fond parents, happy at the sight 
Of childish joy which in our faces shone. 

As we gazed speechless, then in sheer delight 
Shouted and danced about to find our own. 

Now we are severed many a weary mile, 

And at the thought the hot tears needs will flow. 

How happy were I now for but one smile 
From those dear faces of the Ibng ago ! 

And oh! the friends, the precious friends of old! 

They too are distant far beyond my reach. 
Ah, nevermore I fear shall I behold 

Their forms, or hear their fond, familiar speech. 

But to you all — beloved parents, friends, 

A greeting from my inmost heart goes forth: — 

May joy and peace be yours, such as attends 
This season of goodwill to all on earth. 



57 



STRANGE 

Poor Mr. Brown is badly off, 
His grocer bill he cannot pay; 

But often at the theater 

He sits in front to view the play, 
Strange to say! 

Said Bridget, "Mrs. Jones is out. 
So come again another day." 

The caller went, while Mrs. Jones 
Sat in her room and rocked away, 
Strange to say! 

Miss Belle takes music twice a week 
And bangs the keys the livelong day. 

But when she's out in company 

Declares she knows not how to play, 
Strange to say! 

Poor Harry's head aches very bad. 
He cannot go to school to-day; 

But in an auto-car just now 

I saw him pass with comrades gay. 
Strange to say! 

Miss May writes essays full of thought 
That make a wonderful display; 

The other day I came across 

A book that soimds just like Miss May, 
Strange to say! 

Though Carl's the yoimgest m his class 

And all through College paid his way. 
Yet at the head he graduates 
And carries every prize away. 
Strange to say! 
58 



Strange peoples in this world abound, 
And strange things happen every day; 

But if, like Carl, you do your best 
It matters not if people say, 
"Strange to say!" 



59 



THE MAGIC CURE 

She was a winsome dark-eyed lass and went to 

dear old Hughes;* 
One day she came to tell me that she had the 

"bluest blues," 
And many hot and bitter tears she had aheady 

shed, 
Because her lessons would not go into her little 

head. 

"My little maid," I said to her, "your trouble 

I can cure; 
Just dry those eyes, for you may have success 

both swift and sure. 
These cakes I've brought for luncheon look like 

ordinary cakes. 
But they will furnish wisdom to each one that 

partakes. 

One thing though you must promise, else the cakes 

their virtue lose; 
You must follow the directions that are laid 

down for their use : — 
Take two a day, and after each cake study hard 

and long, 
And then you'll know your lessons, and things 

will not go wrong. " 

"I promise!" cried the maiden, as she wiped her 

tear-dimmed eyees, 
And I put into her eager hand the poor, though 

precious prize. 
And now she knows her lessons well and seldom 

makes mistakes, 
For she still keeps her promise and I still "keep" 

the cakes. 
*Hughes High School, Cincinnati, Ohio. • 

60 



EGYPT* 

(Tune: America.) 

O Egypt, 'tis of thee, 
Land of antiquity 

Of thee we sing. 
We love thy sacred stream 
Thy golden sands that gleam 
'Neath skies so like a dream; 

Thy praise shall ring. 

The pyramids, the sphinx, 
That past to present links, 

Om- song would name; 
That wondrous Theban hall, 
Where mingled shadows fall 
From pillar and from wall 

Of world-wide fame. 

Thy rock-hewn tombs where slept 
The Pharaohs and kept 

Silence profound; 
Till in these later days, 
When Cairo proud displays 
To every vulgar gaze 

The mummies found. 

Horus and Ammon-Ra, 
Osiris, Isis, Phthah, — 

The gods are dead. 
The Pharaohs rule no more, 
Yet if we seek thy shore, 
'Tis for the days of yore, 

The days long fled. 



*c 



"Sung at an Egyptian entertainment given by the Palmetto 
Club, Daytona, Florida. 

61 



THE NEW BABY 

O tiny Wavelet on Life's boundless sea, 
To think that thou hast ventured forth alone 
Upon a voyage into parts unknown, 
Where naught is certain but luicertainty. 
Whence earnest thou, and whither art thou 

bound? — 
Future and past alike axe sealed to thee, 
And new and strange is all the world around. 

And yet, dear little Baby, fear thou naught ! 
In thy small form what marvelous powers reside ! 
Powers that to ripen but their time must bide. 
All that the hand of man has ever wrought. 
All that the brain of man has ever thought, 
All that his heart has felt, his fancy dreamed. 
All goodness, greatness, beauty, nobleness, 
Hide somewhere in this tiny frame that seemed 
Sent helpless forth into the wilderness. 

In thee is mirrored all the universe. 
The great world-soul shines in thy little soul; 
The Love and Wisdom that directs the whole 
Will guide thee, too, through better and through 
worse. 

Then welcome. Darling, to thy chosen home, 
And welcome to the loving mother-heart! 
Let good or ill, let joy or sorrow come, 
God will be with thee wheresoe'er thou art . 



62 



THE COMING OF THE KING 

They were all in all to each other, those Two, 
In their home so spick and span and new; 
For him there was none like his own sweet wife, 
And to her he was dearer far than life. 

But one day, bright with the sunshine's gold , 
When the year was exactly four weeks old, 
A wee, wee laddie fresh from the skies 
In the pretty bird's nest opened his eyes. 

And the Two are no longer all in all, 
For the wee, wee lad holds their hearts in thrall; 
No monarch rules with more absolute sway ; 
It is his to command, it is theirs to obey. 

May Heaven on the Three shower blessings rare. 

And watch over them with loving care! 

And may the bright, wee, bonny boy 

Fill the years to come with a wealth of joy ! 



63 



JEAN FRANCES 

Life was bright, life was sweet, 

With good things replete 
Ere the coming of little Jean Frances; 

But now it is sweeter 

By far, and completer; 
No joy but her presence enhances. 

'Tis only four days 

Since she first turned her gaze 
On this world, our little Jean Frances; 

But aheady she's captured 

Our hearts, and enraptured 
We bask in the light of her glances. 

Her wee, dimpled hands 

Are strongest love-bands 
That bind us to little Jean Frances; 

Her dainty pink toes, 

Her mouth like a rose, — 
Each feature, each motion entrances. 

Asleep or awake, 

None other could take 
The place of our little Jean Frances; 

She is well worth a million, 

A billion, a trillion, 
And her price every minute advances. 



64 



TO ELIZABETH 

On Receiving the Card Announcing Her Birth. 

"Elizabeth C. G—d, " says the card. 

It found me out e'en on this southern shore 

And turned my thoughts a dozen years or more 

Back to the days which Memory e'er will guard, 

When your dear mother, Darling, wrestled hard 

With Algebra and Latin and a score 

Of other dreadful things required, before 

Her steps she might at last turn College-ward. 

But now that you have come to light her days, 
Her thoughts, her hopes are centered all in you; 
Her calendar — ^your smile, your merry coo, 
Your first wee tooth, your ciuming little ways. 
Your infant prattle, and your wondering gaze 
At this big world so fair, so strange, so new. 

Full fourteen lines ! — my sonnet is complete. 

And here my poet instinct bids me halt. 

For more than this would be a grievous fault 

And mar the beauty of the perfect feat. 

But naught shall stop me ere I tell you. Sweet, 

That in my heart e'en now you have a place; 

God grant you grow in beauty, strength and 

grace, 
And that sometime, somewhere we two may meet. 



65 



^ 



ONE YEAR OLD 

'Twas on a Monday in the month of May — 
Since then our lives have lengthened by a year — 
When to this rude and crude terrestrial sphere 
A little Angel softly winged his way, 
And nestled in our home as if to stay. 
We welcomed him with warmest love and cheer, 
But day by day the stranger grew more dear, 
His presence driving darkest clouds away. 

Dear Roger, you have come our hves to bless; 
Strange that so quickly you have learned to make 
Yourself the center of our happiness. 
All hearts with winsome ways by storm you take. 
And your proud parents willingly confess 
That life is most worth living for your sake. 



66 



TO MY NIECE 

On Her Third Birthday 

Three years to-day, our precious Darling, 
Three years since your sweet life began; 

'Tis all of life you know, dear Baby, 
To us it seems a little span. 

Yet all the years before seem empty. 
When with that little span compared; 

For you brought back the sunshine, Darling, 
To homes where long it had been spared. 

You made two grandpas and two grandmas 
And aunts and imcles seven or eight. 

How strange that one so small and helpless 
So many titles could create! 

These titles grand acquired so sudden 

Not for our lives woidd we resign. 
Our treasure she who gave them, dearer 

Than rarest gem from richest mine. 

And when your tongue lisped Mamma, Papa, 
How sweUed those loving hearts with pride! 

For them no music could be sweeter, 
Though Jenny Lind and Patti vied. 

Long may you live, our darling Lassie, 

To gladden all within your sphere. 
And may your rich and sunny nature 

Unfold in beauty year by year! 



67 



OUE SUNBEAM 

A golden Sunbeam snatched from heaven 

Was fashioned into human form, 
And to our somber lives was given 

To keep them bright through stress and storm. 

Four years the Sunbeam has been ours ; 

It tints om- darkest clouds with gold, 
It paints the rainbow through the showers. 

And keeps us young as we grow old. 

O precious Sunbeam, shed thy light 

On all the days and years to, come. 
Thy smiles still chasing darkest night. 

And bringing heaven into our home. 



68 



THE FIRST SCORE 

Now another birthday dawneth, 

And your Hfe's first score is told. 
Many joys, scarce flecked with sorrows, 

On its pages we behold: — 
Childhood's dreams and vague desires, 

Youth's ambitions uncontrolled; 
Tasks and duties, willing service, 

Loves and longings manifold. 
As you step across the threshold 

Where the next score is unrolled. 
Look not downward, look out backward, 

Face the futiu-e firm and bold; 
Let no fruitless fear disturb you 

Of the gifts that it may hold; 
Welcome be they or unwelcome. 

Each its lesson will unfold; 
For God's arms with love untiring 

Still this universe uphold. 
May He fill your years with blessings. 

Happiness more rare than gold, 
That, as score to score is added. 

You may gather wealth untold. 
Growing so in inward beauty. 

None would guess you're growing old. 



69 



THE MATHEMATICIAN IN LOVE 

I love my Love from A to Z, 

As I love Mathematics; 
My inmost soul delights in her. 

As in Cubics and Quadratics. 
I love her dearly with an A, 

As Arcs and Angles, Altitudes; 
And next I love her with a B — 

My pet Binomials this includes — ; 
I love her with a capital C, 

Like Circles, Conies, Calculus; 
I love her through the alphabet, 

As much as Decimals, and plus. 

Dearer she is to me than Loci, 
Polars, Ellipses, Axes, Foci, 
Than Logarithms and Mantissas, 
Or Graphics, Ordinates, Abscissas. 
I love her more than Integration, 
More even than a fine Equation; 
Ay, non-Euclidean dreams of Space 
And Four Dimensions have no place 
Within my heart like her sweet face. 
I love her through the X. Y. Z's, 
For even Unknown Quantities 
Cannot boast greater charms than she. 
I love her to Infinity, 
And that's the limit.— Q. E. D. 



70 



THE WEDDING OF TWO ASTRONOMERS 

Together they gazed at the stars in the skies, 

Computed their distances and their size, 

Till he saw one day in her shining eyes 

Two stars that he deemed a far greater prize 

Than all the glittering hosts in the skies. 

And he watched those twin stars day and night. 

Oft as they rose within range of his sight, 

Well-nigh forgetting the stars in the sky 

For the double star that shone close by. 

Moth-like he hovered about the light. 

And his heart was scorched in the foolish flight. 

But the star -eyed maiden took pity at last, 

On the seer of the heavens fond glances she cast; 

Two double stars met in rapturous gaze. 

Two pairs of lips met in well-known ways; 

The mischief, if such it was, was done, 

Two lonely hearts now beat as one. 

And we that are gathered here to-day 

Have come to shower upon the way 

Of the star-daft youth and the star-eyed maid 

Flowers of good wishes never to fade. 

May their union be blest by the stars on high. 

And each find heaven in the other's eye! 



71 



TO MIRANDA 

The daughter of my precious friends of child- 
hood days long fled, 

Has lost her heart and found the man whom she 
is soon to wed. 

All that Dame Fortune can bestow, all that is 

good and fair, 
I fain would have her shower on this beloved pair. 

And to the charming bride-to-be an antique gift 

I bring — 
A towel found within the tomb of an Egyptian 

king. 

The hieroglyphics Life, Strength^ Health wrought 

at one end you see, 
And when Miranda dries her face may she absorb 

all three. 

Life, Strength and Health — ^these gifts combined 

form a foundation sound 
On which the mansion Happiness swift rises from 

the ground. 

And in that glorious mansion may the youthful 

couple dwell. 
With Love, the greatest gift of all, to cast her 

magic spell. 



72 



LINES FOR A CHINA WEDDING 

'Twas in the Sunny South one April day 

Their troth was pHghted, 
And hand to hand and heart to heart for aye 

They were united. 

A score of years o'er smooth and pleasant ways 

And o'er rough places 
They've journeyed on, through bright and dreary 
days, 

With steadfast faces. 

For Love walked with them, comforter and guide. 

And eased their burden; 
Each to the other hope and strength supplied. 

Gladness their guerdon. 

Wood, Tin and Crystal milestones they have 
passed 

To China Station, 
Silver and Gold ahead, and Heaven at last. 

Their destination. 



73 



LINES FOR A GOLDEN WEDDING 

On a peaceful Sabbath morning 

In the lovely month of Jiuie, 
Month of flowers and birds and love-songs, 

Natm*e's voices all in time — 
Hand and heart you were united 

By a bond to last through life, 
And your souls o'erflowed with gladness, — 

Happy husband! happy wife! 

Since that joyous Sabbath morning 

Fifty changeful years have flown; 
Good and ill you've shared together. 

Each to other nearer grown; 
And to-day your lives are brightened 

By the love of daughters three 
And their little ones, who greet you 

At your Golden Jubilee. 

May your pathway lead you onward 

Through fresh fields of happiness. 
Love and Joy and Peace your portion. 

Freedom from life's storm and stress; 
And when ten more years are added 

To the fifty that have fled. 
With your loved ones gathered round you, 

May the Diamond Feast be spread! 



74 



A GREETING FROM THE SOUTH 

Said the Robin: "I scent the frost in the air; 

To the land of the sun I'll hie me away, 
Where the trees their garments of green still wear, 

And the roses still bloom in the gardens gay. " 

And I followed the Robin's southward flight, 

And here I sit in the open air, 
Where the breeze blows warm and the sun shines 
bright. 

And the fragrance of flowers is everywhere. 

A mocking-bird calls from that orange-tree, 

In yon palmetto a redbird sings, 
In this moss-himg liveoak a squirrel I see. 

Here a butterfly spreads his lazy wings. 

And yet my thoughts wander far away 

To that cold, bleak North whence hither I fled; 

They linger about a structure of gray,* 
Where so many years of my life have sped. 

Bright, youthful faces before me rise, 

And I fain would keep them within my sight; 
They flit back and forth as I close my eyes, 

Only to vanish in broad daylight. 

And though e'en farther my steps should stray. 
To Woodward my thoughts will turn anew; 

God bless and keep them aU, I pray. 

The Girls and Boys who wear the Blue.f 

*Woodward High School, Cincinnati, Ohio. 
fThe school color is blue. 



75 



TO MARIAN 

On Receiving Her Photograph. 

Over the miles from far away 
Dear little Marian came to-day, 
Pond'ring the flower in her chubby hand, 
As though she were striving to imderstand 
From the stamens and pistils therein curled 
The mysteries of this wonderful world. 

Dear little Marian, as older you grow, 
No more of life's mystery you will know; 
Now, scarce having dofifed your angel wings, 
You are nearer than we to the primal things; 
The love and the trust in your soul that shine 
In all things show you a soul divine; 
In each tiny flower you see God's face, 
And his arms enfold you in loving embrace. - 



76 



TO DR. W. H. VENABLE 

On Reading 

" The Teacher^s Dream and Other Songs of School- 
days. " 

"Dreams, idle dreams ! why give them any thought? 
Better to ask what useful deeds he's wrought. — " 
Ah, shallow critic ! Little canst thou guess 
What inspiration and what helpfulness. 
What patience, strength and comfort have been 

born 
From out the poet's dreams that meet thy scorn. 
What teacher ever dreamed with Venable 
That glorious dream and caught not thence the 

spell 
Of hopefulness and faith and joy and praise. 
To shed their halo on the weary days! 
Dream on, sweet dreamer, full of fancies bright, 
And let us follow humbly in thy flight. 
To warm our own souls in the grateful glow, 
And catch a glimpse of heaven here below. 



77 



A FATHER'S FAREWELL TO HIS SON 

Farewell, my son! my more than son! 

Son, friend, and brother, all in one ! 
In early manhood called away. 
Of cruel Death th' unwilling prey; 

Without thee, I am all undone. 

False words and vile these lips did shun, 
No base deeds have these hands e'er done. 

So strong and yet so gentle, aye. 

Farewell, my son! 

Though thy career was scarce begun, 
Thy nobleness all hearts hath won; 
And with us, till our latest day, 
Thy image pure and bright shall stay. 
While I my lonely course must run. 
Farewell, my son! 



78 



POEM FOR FOUNDER'S DAY 

Woodward High School, March 5, 1907. 

Like as a noble mother sends her son, 

Her best-beloved, forth into life's race, 
With fervent prayer that pits and snares he shun. 
And that a victor's crown by him he won. 
And follows his career with anxious face: — 

So Woodward sends her sons and daughters forth. 
With prayers and blessings from her mother- 
heart 

That follow east and west and south and north, 

To every distant corner of the earth. 

Her children scattered wide in every part. 

For myriad wires invisible extend 

From her, the center, the magnetic pole; 

To her a myriad living currents bend; 

Through her united, myriad forces blend. 
Transfusing all into a mighty whole. 

And so to-day, from mountain and from shore. 

From forest-depths, from open prairies wide. 

From 'midst the crowded city's rush and roar, 

Full many thousand grateful hearts will pour 

Glad songs of love and praise and joy and pride. 



79 



For what great works her children have achieved* 
What they have thought and wrought and 
dreamed and won, 
Back must be traced to deep-sunk seeds that 

cleaved 
Old Woodward's soil, and sprouted, branched and 
leaved. 
Quickened and fostered by her genial sim. 



And may we gathered here at Woodward Hall 
And those who fain would be with us to-day. 

Now consecrate our lives anew to all 

Great deeds and worthy, prompt at duty's call. 
Defending truth, right, honor, come what may ! 



80 






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